


Fever Dreams

by Dragonfruiteen



Series: Falling Into Place [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Cross is a surprisngly soft bean, Illness, Kind-of Kidnapping, Nightmare really does care though, Sibling Rivalry, Slight hints of Cream, Swearing, Vomiting, Yay bath time, You have to squint, and he isnt happy, idk how else to describe it, mention of vomiting, oh look Error's here, they dont hate each other but they fight, very slight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 18:58:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19729801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonfruiteen/pseuds/Dragonfruiteen
Summary: When Dream gets sick Nightmare decides that he's the only person capable of taking proper care of him. Even if they...disagree...at times, they do care about each other, no matter how rarely they show it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I live for Nightmare and Dream being Good Brothers when it really matters, and I will have more stories with it even if I have to write them myself darn it

"I know it's your job to stop me, but you aren't looking so good. Maybe we should call it a day," Nightmare called out as he easily sidestepped another arrow.

Dream shook his head as he nocked another arrow. His hands were trembling and sweat gleamed on his skull. "I'm perfectly fine," he insisted as he fired.

The arrow landed with a clatter at Nightmare's feet. He gave Dream an unimpressed stare.

"You sure about that?" he asked, nudging the arrow with his toe. "Usually your shooting is at least half-decent."

Dream scowled- surprising, that. Normally it took a lot more than a little teasing to upset him- and let the arm holding his bow drop to his side. "Are you going to fight or talk?" he demanded. 

Nightmare narrowed his eyes. Dream was clearly in no shape to fight right now. He was flushed and breathing hard, even though throughout most of the battle he'd been in one place firing arrows at Nightmare, who dodged them with ease. His clothes were damp with sweat, and when he turned his head too quickly he would wince as though the movement pained him.

But if he wanted a fight so badly, well, Nightmare would give him one. 

Bone attacks appeared around the skeleton, as dark as their master, and dripping with the same sludge that coated his body. Dream's eyes widened and Nightmare grinned at him. With a flick of his hand he sent the attacks flying at his brother.

Considering his current condition, Dream made an impressive attempt at dodging. He avoided the first three attacks, then transformed his bow to a staff and deflected the next two. He wasn't quick enough for the last, though, which struck him in the ribs.

Nightmare dematerialized the remaining attacks and crossed over to Dream, standing beside the prone form. "Are you finished?" he asked.

Dream didn't give up that easily, though, and glared at his brother as he struggled to his feet. He stood, swaying unsteadily for a moment before he started to topple over.

Nightmare caught him with a gentleness that would surprise anyone who had seen some of their previous battles. The two brothers fought tooth and nail every time they met, dealing out cracked ribs and broken skulls, and receiving much the same in return. 

Dream tried to push him away. It wasn't any use- he was so weak at this point that Nightmare doubted he could hurt a fly. Not that he would anyways, of course. 

"Let me go," he hissed. He seemed to have realized that he couldn't make Nightmare release him by force, so he settled for glaring at him with a look that could...well, not kill. Or even injure. Maybe a stubbed toe at the most. Dream wasn't good at being threatening.

Nightmare frowned, staring down at Dream as he thought about what to do. He didn't want to hurt his brother, not right now. They argued and fought, like all siblings did, and sometimes- okay, a lot of the time- those arguments ended with one or the other pretty seriously injured, but they didn't hate each other, like many believed. They just...disagreed, and it so happened that their disagreements concerned the fates of entire worlds. 

Right now, though, he was a little worried. Dream was obviously sick, even though he refused to admit it. Nightmare could always hand him off to Ink, but somehow he doubted that the scatterbrained artist would be a good caretaker. Or he could take him to Blue, who was probably excellent at caring for sick people, considering that his brother only had 1 HP and, like most low-HP monsters, was likely prone to illness.

But he hesitated.

Despite all their differences and everything that had happened between them, Dream was still _his_ brother. He was a little reluctant to just...pass him off to someone he barely knew. 

"I'll take you home," he finally decided. Upon hearing the words Dream stared at him, clearly horrified, but was in no shape to fight back. He still tried, shoving feebly at Nightmare's arms around him. 

Nightmare nodded to himself, sure that this was the right decision. He could make sure Dream was taken proper care of under his watchful eye. It wouldn't be the first time he'd played nursemaid; his boys, while tough, did occasionally fall ill and require some help.

Dream tried to say something, probably arguing. But his words were starting to run together and his voice was so quiet Nightmare could barely hear him. He finally fell silent, and it took Nightmare just a moment too long to realize he'd fallen unconscious. 

He moved Dream into a more comfortable position for carrying him as his tentacles curled protectively around the limp form. 

A moment later he was gone, leaving only a black puddle where two skeletons had been.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream wakes up and is a little suspicious of Nightmare's motives

When Nightmare appeared in the middle of the living room with an unconscious Dream in his arms, his entire gang looked up from whatever they had been doing and stared in surprise.

"Didja actually catch 'im, boss?" Horror asked incredulously, rising to his feet. The others didn't speak but looked at Nightmare, waiting for his answer.

"Yes and no," he said curtly. "He's ill, and I don't trust anyone else with him, so he'll be staying here until he's healed."

If the gang had been surprised before, they were truly shocked now.

"Wait, you're taking care of him?" Dust exclaimed, standing up as well. "You two are always beating each other up, with our help, but now that he's got a cold suddenly you're all caring?"

Nightmare glared at him and Dust stepped back so quickly that he tripped and fell onto Killer, who shoved him off his lap onto the floor.

"Yes," Nightmare said in a tone that brooked no argument. "I am. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to put him in one of the spare rooms. Killer, see if we have any tea. I believe we have some chamomile. Make a pot and bring it up in a little bit."

Killer nodded and disappeared towards the kitchen. The others started talking as soon as Nightmare left the room, but he didn't care. He was more concerned about how warm he had suddenly realized Dream was. He touched his brother's forehead and his frown deepened. He was extremely feverish. 

Dream stirred, mumbling something, and Nightmare picked up the pace a little. The sooner he got Dream settled down, the better. 

He picked the room across from his own. It was a little dusty, but not too bad, and the bed had been made up fairly recently. Sometimes when the boys were especially bored and didn't feel like sparring they'd compete to see who could get the most rooms the cleanest, which was nice if they ever needed to use a room they didn't normally...like now.

Once Dream was safely tucked into the bed with the covers loosely drawn up around him, Nightmare went across the hall to his own room to get the book he had been reading. Upon returning, he pulled a chair over besides the bed and settled down to wait for Dream to wake.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there before Dream woke up, but it couldn't have been that long because Killer hadn't brought the tea yet. 

"...Nightmare?" Dream asked, voice heavy with sleep and confusion. He blinked a few times as he looked around the room. "Where...where am I?" he asked as he started to push himself up to a sitting position.

"Lay down," Nightmare ordered, voice firm yet gentle. "You're sick and need to rest."

Dream obeyed, staring at Nightmare with a mixture of confusion, distrust, and a little bit of fear. "What are you doing?" he asked.

Nightmare raised an eyebrow. "Making sure you rest, of course. I know you, brother, and I doubt you'd allow yourself time to recover if no one was watching you."

Dream shrugged sheepishly. "Probably not...but that doesn't explain why you care." 

Nightmare sighed. "I know we have our...differences, but-"

"Differences! You mean that you want to make yourself stronger by making everyone else miserable!" Dream interrupted. His eyes were flashing angrily and his hands were curled into fists as he gripped the blanket. Hm. Apparently being sick made him much more irritable. Interesting. 

Nightmare continued as though he hadn't been interrupted. "- but that doesn't mean I don't care at all. Besides, who else is going to do it? I doubt the squid would be even slightly competent, and if that Swap Sans you like isn't already helping you, then either you're avoiding him on purpose or he isn't going to."

Nightmare could tell Dream was still suspicious.

"And what happens once I'm better?" he asked. "Am I a prisoner? Lock me in the dungeon and continue your work unopposed?"

Nightmare would be lying if he said he hadn't considered it, but that wasn't his style. "This is a catch and release," he said. "Once I'm sure you're completely better, you can leave."

While Dream was thinking about that the door opened and Killer walked in carrying a tray with a teapot and two mugs, as well as some honey and little crackers.

"I couldn't find chamomile, but lemon tea is supposed to be good for illness," he explained as he set the tray down on the little table. "I also found some oyster crackers, which Cross said might be good to bring up."

"Thank you, Killer," Nightmare said. "You may go. If you or the others need me, I'll be up here. Emergencies only, please."

Killer nodded and started towards the door, but a raised finger from Nightmare made him pause. 

"Oh, and be sure to tell Dust that a moth inside the castle is not an emergency, no matter how big it is."

Killer nodded again and his grin widened as amusement sparked in his sockets. "Will do, boss," he said.

Once Killer was gone Nightmare turned back to Dream. "Would you like some tea?" he asked. Dream hesitated, then nodded. When he sat up to take the proffered cup, this time Nightmare didn't argue.

Dream took a tentative sip and made a face. "It's a little strong," he complained. Nightmare silently handed him the bottle of honey.

They sat there in silence, drinking their tea. The crackers sat forgotten on the tray. Nightmare pretended to resume reading, but really he was watching Dream. His brother had seemed a little better when he first woke up, but he wasn't doing so well now. His hands were trembling slightly and a delicate dusting of gold lay across his cheekbones. 

There was a loud bang from somewhere in the castle and Dream jumped, dropping his cup in his lap. Fortunately it was empty.

"S-sorry…" Dream muttered sheepishly, picking the cup up. Nightmare took it from him gently.

"It's fine," he said soothingly. "I'll tell them to be more quiet. For now, just rest." 

Nightmare watched Dream lay back down before he picked up his book again. This time he was actually reading it, although he still glanced up to check on Dream every so often. 

He hadn't had a chance to observe Dream so closely for...a long time. Now he found himself looking the other over to see how he'd changed. His bones were no longer the pristine, unmarked white Nightmare remembered. Scars criss-crossed over the visible parts of body, most so faint he could barely tell they were there. A few were more noticeable, but not by much. Whoever helped to heal him when needed was good at it. 

Most of those wounds had undoubtedly been dealt by Nightmare himself. The realization gave him mixed feelings. 

Dream's familiar golden eyelights were hazy, and he had shadows beneath his sockets. Nightmare wondered whether that was due to his illness or stress.

"What are you looking at?" Dream mumbled tiredly. Nightmare realized that he'd been openly staring and quickly looked away.

"Just thinking," he said. "It's been a while since we could be in the same room without fighting. It's...strange."

Dream blinked at him. "And who's fault is that?" he asked. "Not mine."

With that he rolled over to face the wall and silence settled over the room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream is still sick. Nightmare is surprisingly good at taking care of sick people.

Dream didn't know what to think. Nightmare was the last person he'd expected to want to take care of him. While it would be a lie to say that the brothers hated each other, they certainly weren't on friendly terms. Yes, their relationship had gotten much better since those first few centuries after the apple incident- ugh, those years had been horrible. They'd nearly killed each other several times- but it was still more of a not-so-friendly rivalry then anything coming close to a normal sibling bond.

He glanced over at his brother, who was absorbed in his book. He'd never seen Nightmare look so peaceful, not since...well, not for a long time. It...It was a pleasant change, he had to admit. They were sitting- well, Nightmare was sitting, Dream was laying down- in the same room, with no fighting or arguing or insults or threats.

It was too good to be true.

Although Dream desperately hoped that Nightmare truly did care and was doing this out of whatever goodness remained in his corrupted soul, he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Nightmare was cunning and power-hungry, and Dream was the only one standing between him and complete control over the Multiverse. Well, Ink would probably stop him if it got to that point, but unless AUs were being completely destroyed, the guardian was pretty lax about anything else.

But he couldn't think of what it might be. Nightmare hadn't made any demands or offered any deals, and he'd said that he would let Dream go once he was better. He could be lying, of course, but Dream didn't think he was. Although he couldn't read Nightmare's emotions thanks to his brother's aura, he was still pretty good at understanding body language. 

He wasn't lying, Dream was sure. But could he really be telling the truth when he said he just wanted to make sure Dream would be okay…?

Ugh. All this thinking made his headache even worse. He rolled over and buried his face in the pillow. Stars, he hated being sick. Usually he could just power through, with a little help from Ink and Blue, but this time he didn't have a choice. He was stuck here.

Which...wasn't so bad, once he got past the fact that he was surrounded by enemies, on their own turf, completely at their mercy. The bed was ridiculously comfortable, and other than the occasional concerning crashes from downstairs, it was quiet. 

Had the room always been so warm? It felt like he was boiling. He couldn't quite make himself move to get out from under the blanket, though. His head was pounding and he groaned quietly into the pillow.

"Are you doing okay?" he heard Nightmare ask.

"No," he whined, turning to look at his brother. The sudden brightness of the room compared to the darkness of the pillow made him wince and close his eyes tight. 

He heard movement, and a moment later, "Is that better?"

Confused, he slowly opened his eyes. The room was much darker now. Nightmare had turned off the light and pulled the curtains shut. The brightest thing in the room now was his one blue-green eyelight, fixed steadily on Dream.

"Y-yeah, that's a...lot better," Dream managed. For a single moment Nightmare almost smiled, looking satisfied with himself.

"If you need anything, just tell me," he said softly as he sat back down and picked his book back up.

"Can...can you read that?" Dream asked, furrowing his brow. "Without the light, I mean." 

Nightmare glanced up at him. "Yes. I can see very well in the dark," he explained. 

"Oh...okay," Dream mumbled, letting his head fall back against the pillow. Stars, everything hurt now. And he was still too hot, but he couldn't muster the strength to move. Slowly, his eyes slid shut as he fell into a restless sleep.

When he woke, Nightmare wasn't there. 

Dream looked around the dark room several times before his sick, tired mind realized that he really was the only one here. For a moment he was afraid that Nightmare had taken advantage of his condition to attack a few AUs, but if Nightmare actually was attacking somewhere, he would have felt it. 

Dream sat up and instantly regretted it as a wave of nausea rolled over him. He had just enough presence of mind to lean over the edge of the bed before he threw up.

Trembling, he started to sit back before another wave hit him and he had to lean out again to avoid getting any on the bed.

Gentle hands settled on his back and shoulder to hold him steady as he heaved spoiled magic and bile onto the floor. This time was much worse than the first and it was several minutes before he was able to sit back.

He looked up at Nightmare-when had he come in?- who looked down at him with nothing but brotherly concern in his eye. "S-sorry," Dream whispered, wiping at the back of his mouth with one hand.

"You don't need to apologize," Nightmare said. "I should have thought to bring a bucket or a trash can for you." He looked at Dream a little closer and frowned slightly. "Do you want some water?"

Dream nodded. Nightmare left, returning a moment later with a glass of water and a rag, as well some more crackers and some ginger ale carried in his tentacles. He helped Dream wipe the vomit from his face- luckily he hadn't gotten any on his clothes- and then let Dream sip at the water while he cleaned up the mess on the floor.

"...thanks," Dream murmured as he laid back down, after setting the empty water glass on the table, of course, and snuggled gratefully into the comfort of the blanket wrapped around him. 

As he drifted off to sleep again, he thought he felt a hand brush comfortingly against his shoulder.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's the rest of the gang been doing this whole time?

While Nightmare cared for Dream upstairs, his gang huddled in the living room and wondered what the hell he was thinking.

"They beat each other up all the time," Horror muttered, "'e's been hurt way worse than some little cold. Why does the boss care so much now?"

"Maybe it's that whole 'the only one who's allowed to hurt my brother is me' mentality?" Dust guessed. "I mean, it's not like someone else made him get sick, but Nightmare definitely didn't cause it."

"It would make sense," Cross said slowly. "When Nightmare is the one hurting him, he can control how much damage Dream takes. But if he's sick, Nightmare can't control that. Maybe he thinks the best way to make sure Dream recovers is by watching over him himself. After all, we all know he doesn't want Dream dead."

The others nodded in agreement. Nightmare had been clear on that. They could fight Dream, injure him, whatever, as long as they didn't kill him. And Dream didn't want to kill anyone at all, ever, so there would never be a time when it was them or him. It hadn't been an issue.

Killer looked around at the others. "Well, whatever his reasons are, if they're good enough for him, they're good enough for me, and they should be good enough for you guys too. Instead of talking about it, maybe we should try and help."

The other nodded and jumped to their feet. "What should we do?" Dust asked. "I don't know how to take care of a sick person…" He trailed off and tilted his head, as though listening to someone. His expression brightened. "That's a great idea, Paps!" he exclaimed. Seeing the other's searching looks, he explained. "While Nightmare's busy, we should go get supplies, so that if he needs anything it's already here."

Horror started listing things off. "Crackers, ginger ale, probably some medicine. I dunno what he needs, but we oughta get the basic stuff, like cold medicine."

"I thought we had crackers?" Killer asked, glancing at Horror, who shrugged.

"I ate em. They were getting stale anyways," he explained. 

Dust shoved Horror playfully, which was still pretty hard. "We have plenty of other things to eat, like that pizza from the other day! Don't eat the stuff we need for the sick dude!"

Horror shoved Dust back, knocking him into Cross, who caught him and stood him back up. "I didn't want the pizza, I wanted the crackers," he said, grinning dangerously. 

Killer rolled his eyes. "Come on, if we're going to go get stuff we should go now. You can fight when we get back."

Dust and Horror sneered at each other. Horror mimed driving his axe into Dust's skull, to which Dust responded by pretending to grind Horror into dust beneath his feet. But they quit actually fighting, for the moment at least.

Cross sliced a portal open with his knife and the four of them stepped through. 

When they got back Nightmare was just coming downstairs. He was pleasantly surprised by the various supplies they'd gotten, and helped direct them as to where everything belonged. 

"How's he doin?" Horror asked while he put things in the cabinet, jerking his head in the direction of the stairs.

"Sleeping," was Nightmare's response. "Hopefully for a good while, he needs to rest."

"How long do you think he'll be here?" Dust asked curiously. Nightmare shrugged.

"It depends on how long he takes to recover, and whether or not he gets worse before he gets better. It could be a few days, it could be a few weeks." 

Nightmare sat downstairs with them for a little while, watching Dust and Horror wrestle and make sure they didn't tear the place apart completely.

Killer cocked his head as he heard a noise from upstairs. "You hear that?" he asked, glancing at Nightmare.

Nightmare was still for a moment as he concentrated on listening, then suddenly jumped to his feet and rushed upstairs. He didn't run, Nightmare never ran, but it was certainly faster then his usual leisurely pace.

"Hope everything's okay," Cross said, staring after him. "He doesn't move that fast unless he absolutely has to."

"I'm sure it's fine," Dust said. "Or it will be, in a little bit. Either way, not much we can do about it." He and Horror had quit sparring to come and stand by Cross and Killer as they waited for Nightmare to come back down.

He returned a few minutes later, looking concerned.

"Everythin' okay, boss?" Horror asked. Nightmare barely glanced at him as he went into the kitchen. Luckily his voice carried quite a bit, especially in the echoing rooms of the castle, so they heard his answer easily. 

"He just threw up. I'm going to take him some water...did you get ginger ale earlier?"

Killer answered in the affirmative, and Cross suggested he take some more crackers up. 

They watched Nightmare disappear upstairs again.

"He probably won't be down for a while," Killer said. "Remember when Cross had that flu thing and couldn't keep anything down? He didn't leave his side at all for a whole night and a day. Probably would have stayed longer if Dust didn't get sick too."

Cross flushed slightly at the reminder, but Dust didn't care at all, only nodding thoughtfully. "Yeah, he does kinds hover, doesn't he? We won't see him until tomorrow, or my name's not Dust."

"Your name isn't Dust, it's Sans," Horror said, smirking. Dust hit him, and a moment later they were fighting again. 

Cross nearly got hit by a stray bone attack and sighed. He went into the kitchen to get some leftover pizza. Maybe if he brought the whole box out, it would distract the idiots long enough to get them to stop fighting.

Something in the other room shattered and he winced, moving a little faster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There goes the last of my buffer chapters... I need to sit down and actually start writing now. That said, if there are any sickfic tropes or scenarios you'd like to see, let me know in the comments and I'll see what I can do :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream has a dream, and it's not fun. 
> 
> And maybe Nightmare hasn't changed as much as he thought?

Dream slept nearly the entire afternoon, waking up twice just long enough to drink some more water, and once to throw up again. At some point while he'd been asleep Nightmare had brought a trash can up, though, so at least this time he didn't make a mess on the floor.

Every time he woke up Nightmare was right there beside him. Every time he woke up Nightmare murmured soothing words to him and helped him sit up a little to drink some water and asked if he needed anything else. 

It was so different from the Nightmare Dream had grown used to that sometimes he wondered if this was all some strange fever dream and he was really passed out on Blue's couch.

If he'd ever thought about him being in a situation like this, he would have expected that Nightmare would at least pretend he didn't care. He would act like he had some ulterior motive for helping Dream. But he hadn't done that. He had been nothing but kind and patient with Dream and hadn't even hinted at some nefarious plot..

Dream sighed, then winced. His headache had grown worse, so even the smallest noise or movement hurt. It didn't help that a dull ache was beginning to radiate outwards from his soul to settle in his bones so that he didn't have a moment's relief, even when the pain in his head subsided for a few precious moments. 

Nightmare heard the sigh and knew he was awake. "Are you hungry?" he asked quietly.

"No," Dream said in a whisper. He opened one eye to look at his brother.

Nightmare was frowning. "You haven't eaten anything since you got here. Are you sure?"

Stars, even thinking about eating made him feel nauseous. "No," he said again, a little louder. He opened his other eye as well. 

Nightmare stared at him for a minute longer, his expression unreadable. Then he sighed. "Alright, I won't press the matter. But you'll need to eat something soon."

Dream only nodded as his eyes slipped shut again. 

_He was alone. Walking through the trees- was this Snowdin? It didn't look quite right- and trying to pretend he didn't see the eyes watching him from the bushes. Where were his friends? They wouldn't let him come to a place like this alone...would they?_

_A twig snapped. He kept walking. If he kept walking and ignored them he would be fine._

_Another snap. Footsteps. Faster and closer until they were right behind him._

_Something breathed on the back of his neck. He spun around._

_Nothing._

_The darkness began laughing. At first it was quiet snickering. Slowly it became louder and louder until it was no longer laughter but howling, horrible howling that chilled him to his marrow._

_The shadows were growing deeper, chasing the light away. The snow was no longer pristine white but dull, faded gray. He reached down and picked some up, watched it slip through his fingers. It wasn't snow, it was dust._

_The howling stopped, and the silence that came after was far more terrifying than the noise had been._

_Something was coming._

He woke in a cold sweat and gasping for air. Residual fear gripped his soul and it was so dark, why was it so dark he couldn't see _he couldn't see anything-_

"Dream."

The single word was spoken with powerful, confident calm. Reassuring, soothing. Dream turned and saw a single blue light, shining through the dark like a beacon. He stared at that light and slowly his breathing began to slow, the tight fear coiled in his chest to weaken and fade away.

The light came closer and Dream realized it was Nightmare's eyelight. Nightmare laid his hand over Dream's own and he realized he was clutching tightly at the blanket.

"You're alright," Nightmare was saying. "You're safe. You don't need to be afraid." 

Dream let out a shuddering breath and closed his eyes for a moment. It had been a long time since he'd had a dream like that. 

Dream felt a hand on his forehead and his eyes flew open. Nightmare was leaning over him with a frown on his face. "You're much warmer now," he said. "It had seemed like the fever was going down, and I was hopeful that you were getting better, but…"

It took a lot more effort then it should have for Dream to gently push Nightmare's hand away. "I'll be fine," he insisted. His voice was shaky, both because of the illness sapping his strength and from the dream that had shaken him more than he cared to admit.

The look Nightmare gave Dream showed that he was not convinced, but he didn't argue. "Go back to sleep," he said firmly. 

"I...don't want to," Dream said softly. His eyes were pleading as he gazed at his brother and Nightmare was not unaffected. He sighed.

"You won't eat, you won't sleep...I don't know how you plan on recovering at this rate, but very well," Nightmare said. He sat back in the chair and picked up the book.

Dream shifted uncomfortably. He was uncomfortably warm and although his headache had gotten better, it was still there. He knew that he needed to rest so he could heal, but he really didn't feel like sleeping right now.

He took the time to observe Nightmare. His brother was absorbed in his book, the single eyelight practically glued to the page. He read quickly, if how often he turned the pages was any indicator. Dream remembered how much he used to read, back before...well, he wouldn't dwell on that. Suffice to say, Nightmare had always enjoyed reading. It was nice to see that at least that aspect of him was unchanged. 

"...What are you reading?" Dream asked. Nightmare looked up. He seemed surprised by the question. 

"Do you remember that story we read together about the tower that was haunted by the spirit of a dog?" he asked. Dream slowly nodded, vaguely remembering having read something along those lines a long time ago. "Well, this is the same story, but it's from a Swapped universe, so some things are very different," Nightmare explained. "For instance, instead of a dog, it's a cat." He glanced down at the book in his hands. "I found it the other day and thought it might be fun to read and see how much was different."

Dream smiled, then sighed. "I never have time to read anymore," he said sadly. "I'm so busy...if I'm not doing my job, then I'm helping Ink fend off Error, or I'm at Blue's doing whatever activity he's thought of."

Nightmare didn't say anything. Dream wondered if he'd somehow said something wrong.

"...Would you like me to read it to you?"

Dream gaped at Nightmare. The offer seemed so ludicrous that he wondered if the other was messing with him. 

"I'm being serious, you know," Nightmare said. His tone was slightly defensive. Dream managed to get his surprise under control and apologized.

"S-sorry, I didn't…" he trailed off as Nightmare continued to not-quite glare at him. "...That would be nice," he said meekly.

Nightmare's expression was unreadable as he turned back to the first page and began reading the story aloud.  
 _  
"The Tower of Harben loomed above the town, just as it always did. But on one stormy night, something happened that would haunt the town for centuries for come…"_

Dream lay back against the pillow and listened. The story was nice, but even nicer was simply listening to Nightmare's voice It was deep and smooth as he spoke, never stumbling or hesitating over a word. 

Dream stifled a yawn and fought to keep his eyes open as he relaxed.

It was a battle he couldn't hope to win, and lulled by Nightmare's voice, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does this count as fluff? I'd like to think so, I haven't really tried writing fluffy things before.
> 
> And I may not reply to each and every comment due to time constraints, but rest assured they are all seen and very much appreciated!


	6. Chapter 6

Dream's condition only got worse as the night wore on. He slept restlessly and often cried out or flinched away from something seen only by himself. 

The book lay forgotten on the table. Nightmare paced back and forth across the room. To someone who didn't know him very well, he looked calm. Thoughtful, even. But if one of his boys had seen him, or if Dream had been awake, they would have noticed the way his movements were a little sharper, a little quicker. They would have noticed how the shadows seemed deeper and the light weaker, how the very air around him seemed to darken.

He slowed his steps and looked at his brother, asleep on the bed. Dream looked so small right now, so fragile. His chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths and as he rolled over yet again he mumbled a name beneath his breath- whose, Nightmare didn't quite hear. 

Dream cried out in his sleep, and despite everything they had done to each other over the years, Nightmare's soul ached at the sound. In a moment he was at his brother's side. 

"Shh, it's alright," Nightmare whispered. He rested on hand over Dream's chest, right above his soul. He could feel it pulsing, faster than it should be, and erratic, but still strong with life and magic. Although his abilities to detect emotions were not very effective on his brother due to his aura, he could still sense the negativity coiled within his soul. He focused on that feeling, drawing it out of Dream and into himself.

Dream's eyes fluttered open and he stared up at Nightmare. His brow was furrowed in confusion and his eyes were still heavy with sleep. He brushed his fingertips against Nightmare's hand and the corners of his mouth began to curve into a small smile. Then his eyes slipped shut again and he let his arm fall limply to his side.

Nightmare didn't move for a while. He stared down at Dream with a small frown. He didn't know how Dream usually was when he was sick, but he didn't look good. It didn't help that he had flat-out refused to eat anything, claiming even thinking about it made him feel nauseous. 

And the dreams that seemed to plague him...Nightmare was no stranger to bad dreams, of course. And he knew that illness often made the mind uneasy and dreams uneasier. But when his boys had night terrors, which was unfortunately often, he could always draw the fear and pain out of them and stop the dreams for a while. With Dream he could only soothe him for an hour or so at most.

Perhaps it was because Dream was the opposite of Nightmare in almost every way. Even after taking his current form, his magic had always been a little less effective on Dream then on anyone else. 

A tentative knock on the door distracted Nightmare from his thoughts.

It was Killer, with a tray of various items. "You've been up here a while, and we were getting a little worried," he explained hurriedly before Nightmare could say anything. "I thought I'd bring some things up in case you needed them."

He glanced over Nightmare's shoulder at Dream. "How's he doing?" he asked. Although Killer had no reason to care about Dream other then the fact that Nightmare clearly did, concern was clear in his voice.

"Not very well," Nightmare said somberly as he took the offered tray. "I apologize for not being present with you and the others. Thank you for your help."

Killer nodded and left.

Nightmare returned to his seat beside Dream and began looking through the contents of the tray. Some more crackers- the ones from the first two times were still uneaten- a mug, and two covered pots. One held tea, as Nightmare quickly discovered, and the other had soup.

Dream stirred and sat up slowly. He blinked at Nightmare, looking dazed but at least more coherent then the last time he'd woken up. "...what's that smell?" he asked.

"Soup," Nightmare said. "Do you want some?" 

"...yes, please," Dream said. Nightmare poured some of the soup into a mug and handed it to him. 

Dream took a cautious sip. His expression brightened slightly and he took another, larger one. "This is good," he said, sounding surprised.

"Horror probably made it; he likes making soups and stews," Nightmare said. "I'll tell him you liked it." 

Dream only nodded as he devoured the rest of the soup, having Nightmare refill the mug twice. Nightmare could tell he felt better once he was done. His eyelights were brighter and he didn't seem quite so exhausted as before. 

"How long have I been here?" Dream asked. 

Nightmare frowned slightly as he thought about. Time was a little strange here, but…"Around a full day and night," he said.

"Really? It feels like a lot longer…" Dream said thoughtfully. "Weird."

Nightmare waved his hand dismissively. "It feels longer because you're sick, I'm sure. I know how time works in my own world, trust me." 

Dream frowned slightly. "This isn't _your_ world," he pointed out. "Dreamtale is your world and you chose to leave it."

"Dreamtale didn't want me," Nightmare said. He appeared calm, but the way the room seemed to darken around him said otherwise.

Dream opened his mouth as though to argue, but thought better of it. He had accepted that Nightmare wouldn't hurt him right now, but that didn't mean he wanted to antagonize him while he was so weak. Instead he sighed and lay back down.

"My head hurts; I'm going back to sleep," Dream muttered. "You can wake me up if there's more soup." 

With that he curled up beneath the blanket and was silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a little harder to write for some reason, and I'm still not entirely sure I'm happy with it, but *shrug*


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone comes to visit and Nightmare has to leave. While he's gone, Cross keeps an eye on Dream.

Dust and Horror were fighting somewhere other than the living room for once. Killer was probably watching them brawl, and of course Nightmare was upstairs with Dream. That left Cross with complete, undisputed control of the TV remote, and he was taking full advantage of the rare opportunity. 

He had just selected a show to sit down and watch when the front door crashed open. Cross definitely did not jump three feet in the air, he did not, and anyone who says he did is a liar. 

Error stormed inside. The glitch looked to be in an even worse mood than usual. **"Where's Nightmare?"** he demanded upon seeing Cross. 

"He's upstairs, but I don't think this a good time," Cross said cautiously. He was ready to run for his life at any moment. While Error was usually amicable towards the gang, he could be unpredictable. Especially if he was in a mood like this.

**"Does it look like I care if this a good fucking time?"** Error snapped. **"For the past six hours Ink has been tormenting me. He keeps asking if I know where Dream is. I tell him, no, fuck off. He asks if Nightmare knows. I tell him, do I look like Nightmare? No, fuck off!"**

Glitches buzzed around Error like angry hornets. Every so often his entire form would blur and flicker. His voice, distorted and staticky on a good day, was jumping all over the place.

Cross hadn't seen him this upset in a long time. His first impulse was to tell Error that Dream was here. But he didn't know if Nightmare would want him to share that information.

"I'll go tell Nightmare you're here," he said. He walked up the stairs, extremely conscious of Error's gaze burning holes in the back of his skull.

As he made his way to the room Killer had said Dream was in, he wondered why it had to be him caught between the two powerful skeletons. Nightmare would undoubtedly be irritated at being called away from Dream, but Cross couldn't ignore Error either. For a brief moment he considered running away to some obscure AU no one had ever heard of.

He found himself outside the door far too soon. He knocked twice and stepped back. 

The door flew open almost immedieately. "What is it?" Nightmare said. He was clearly rather annoyed, but his tone was remarkably calm.

"Error's here. He wants to talk to you. It's something about Ink bothering him about where Dream is," Cross explained. He stood up a little straighter as he spoke and held his arms clasped behind his back.

Nightmare sighed. "Did you tell him Dream's here?" 

Cross shook his head no. "I'll explain it myself, then," Nightmare said. "Cross, I want you to stay here until I come back."

Cross stared at him. "You...want me to stay here, like with Dream?" he clarified. He had no experience taking care of a sick person, especially not someone who he fought on a regular basis!

"Yes," Nightmare said patiently. "I don't want him to wake up and have no one be there. I shouldn't take long."

Cross thought about arguing. He didn't think about it for very long. "Yes, sir," he said. 

Nightmare didn't spare him another glance and headed downstairs to deal with Error. 

Cross walked into the bedroom. The first thing he noticed is how dark it was. The lights were out and the curtains drawn shut. The second thing he noticed was two golden lights staring at him from the bed. 

"What's going on?" Dream asked. Cross was surprised by how tired he sounded. Whenever he'd faced Dream in battle, the guardian was always energetic, always positive. Right now he was anything but.

"Nightmare needs to take care of a few things and he asked me to stay with you," Cross said. He felt a little awkward just standing there, but the one chair was _right_ next to the bed and he definitely would feel uncomfortable sitting that close to Dream. He decided to continue standing.

Dream didn't say anything, but he frowned a little. Cross's eyes were slowly adjusting to the light levels in here and he could see Dream's face quite clearly now.

"He said you were asleep," Cross added after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

"I was," Dream groaned, rolling over to lay on his back. "You knock really loudly."

Cross winced. Oops. 

"No, it's fine," Dream hurried to say upon noticing his expression. Or maybe he'd felt Cross's emotions change. Cross was pretty sure he could sense emotions, just like Nightmare. "I think I was waking up anyway."

Cross didn't really believe that. But he also didn't think it was very fair to argue with a sick person, so he didn't say so aloud. 

Silence descended upon them again.

Cross took a minute to examine Dream. His form was mostly hidden beneath the folds of his blanket, leaving only his face and one arm exposed. Even in the dim light of the room Cross could see sweat glistening on his forehead. 

He realized a little too late that Dream was staring right back at Cross. He didn't say anything though, and Cross realized that Dream was probably taking the opportunity to study _him_. 

"Do you need anything?" Cross asked. Dream thought about it.

"Uh, a shower?" he said. Cross wasn't quite sure if he was being serious or not. "I'm starting to feel pretty gross...but no, I don't actually need anything." 

Ah. Not being serious then. Cross was a little relieved...but there was probably some truth to the suggestion. If Dream was thinking about showering, he probably actually did want to. He just didn't feel comfortable asking. Cross couldn't blame him.

Cross figured that he had a few options. One was to take what Dream said at face value and think no more of it. Two was to wait for Nightmare to come back and let him know everything that had transpired between the two and let him decide what to do about it. Three was for Cross to go ahead and help Dream himself.

Cross glanced towards the door. It shouldn't take long for Nightmare to tell Error what was going on. The fact that he wasn't back yet meant that Error had probably dragged Nightmare along to explain everything to Ink himself. And if that was the case, he might be a while.

Stars, Cross hoped he was making the right choice here. "If you'd like to shower there's a bathroom not far from here," he said. "I can show you where everything is and find you some clean clothes."

Dream was clearly surprised by the offer. "I...if it's not too much trouble…" he said slowly. 

"It's not," Cross assured him.

Dream sat up and slid out from under the covers. Cross didn't know if he was moving so slowly because he wasn't feeling well or because he was hesitant about letting Cross help him.

Dream got to his feet and stumbled. Cross automatically reached out to steady him.

"I'm fine," Dream panted. "Just got a little dizzy...give me a minute."

Cross was patient. 

Once Dream managed to regain his balance Cross let go of him. "It's this way," Cross said. "Follow me."

Cross led Dream through the halls of the castle. There were several times that he had to stop and let Dream rest. 

Eventually they made it to the bathroom. Cross took one look at the exhausted, slightly swaying skeleton beside him and decided a shower was not an option. "I'll start a bath," he said. Dream nodded weakly. 

Cross found the stopper for the tub and turned the water on. He managed to find a few half-full bottles of various soaps and set them beside the tub so Dream could pick which one he wanted. He grabbed a towel as well and set it on the counter.

"Don't lock the door," Cross said. Angel forbid something happened, but if it did Cross had to be able to get inside to help. "I'm going to go find some clothes, but you should be able to handle it from here."

"I'll be fine," Dream said. "Just warn me if you plan on coming in, okay?" 

Cross nodded and went to leave, but a small noise from Dream made him pause and look over his shoulder.

"Hey, Cross...thanks," Dream said softly. 

Cross blinked. Then he smiled. "You're welcome."

He stepped out into the hall and shut the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly longer AN this time because I want to explain a few things ^^
> 
> I've been looking forward to writing this part since I started the story, and I originally meant for it to all be one chapter but it was getting a little long so I cut it in half. Even so, this is still a little longer then the other chapters though.
> 
> Also, in this particular story/Multiverse, the X-event never happened. Nightmare found Cross alone in his universe and let him join the gang, so the first time Cross met Ink and Dream was in battle. 
> 
> Finally, my schedule for the next few weeks is going to be rather spastic and so I might not be able to update daily like I've been doing. I'll try, but if I miss a day or two, that's why.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream discovers that Cross is very different when he's not in a serious fight

Once Cross left Dream was quick to undress and get into the tub. The warm water did wonders for his aching bones and he let out a satisfied sigh. He took a look at the various bottles Cross had pulled out for him. He was pleasantly surprised to find a bubble bath among them and immediately dumped a healthy amount into the water. 

In a few short minutes Dream was surrounded by mountains of fluffy, white bubbles. He was feeling much better now, although definitely still sick, and giggled a little as he pushed the bubbles away from his face. 

He closed his eyes and relaxed. Cradled in warmth, surrounded by bubbles, soothed by the sound of running water, Dream very nearly fell asleep again.

A knock on the door jolted him awake and he sat up quickly. "Hey, I found some clothes," Cross called through the door. "You want me to leave them out here, or…?" 

Dream glanced at the white bubbles around him, piled high enough that they were almost spilling out of the tub. "You can bring them in here," he said. 

A moment later the door swung slowly open and Cross stepped inside. Dream giggled when he saw Cross had his hand over his eyes. "You don't need to cover your eyes, it's okay," Dream said. 

Cross hesitantly lowered his hand. Dream felt relief emanating from Cross in waves when he saw the bubbles. The relief quickly turned to amusement. "What are you, five?" Cross asked as he set a pile of clothing on the counter.

"I'm older than you and that's all you need to know,' Dream said primly. He playfully flicked water out of the tub at Cross. 

Cross easily sidestepped the splashing. He grabbed a cup off the counter and filled it from the sink. By the time Dream realized what he was doing it was too late. He shrieked as cold water cascaded down his skull and spine.

"Truce! Truce!" Dream pleaded as he sank down to hide in the bubbles. Cross chuckled. 

"Fine, but only because you're sick," he said. "I'm going to wait outside. Let me know if you need any help." 

Dream nodded and watched Cross leave, pulling the door shut behind him. Then he sighed and sat up. The water was already starting to cool off, and Cross dumping in more cold water didn't help. 

As he scrubbed away the sweat and grime accumulated from the last few days Dream thought about Cross. He didn't know much about the other skeleton. Unlike the other gang members, including their leader, he wasn't prone to chatter during a fight. He simply did whatever job was required of him and left, usually without saying a word.

So Dream was a little surprised by how playful Cross had been just now. It reminded Dream of how he and Ink would tease each other. It was like...the way friends acted together.

Dream shook his head. Cross wasn't a friend. The only reason he was being so nice was because Nightmare had told him to. Well, Dream assumed Nightmare had told him so. He didn't actually know. But either way it didn't change the fact that they were enemies. Cross worked for Nightmare, and Nightmare worked only for chaos.

Dream stayed in the water for as long as it was even a little bit warm, but finally even he had to admit defeat. He pulled the stopper out and let the water drain away, along with the handful of bubbles that remained. 

When Dream stood up a wave of dizziness washed over him. By some miracle he managed not to fall, and after a moment it subsided. He waited a minute to make sure he was okay before moving.

The clothes Cross had brought were a simple white t-shirt and some sweatpants. They were nothing like Dream's usual outfit, but they were comfortable.

Although he'd felt better, once Dream was up and moving around he quickly started feeling exhausted again. He felt bad about leaving a mess, but he just couldn't bring himself to clean up the water on the floor or put the soap bottles away.

Cross was standing patiently in the hallway and turned to look at Dream when the bathroom door opened. "Are you okay?" he asked immediately upon seeing him.

"I'm fine," Dream insisted, although that was clearly not true. He had to lean against the doorframe for support and he was trembling.

Cross gave him a skeptical look. Dream tried to smile reassuringly, but he had a feeling Cross wasn't fooled. That feeling only grew more certain when Cross marched over and picked him up.

"H-hey! Put me down!" Dream yelped. 

"Nah," Cross said, easily carrying Dream despite his struggles. "This way is quicker. Besides, you're exhausted, and I don't want Nightmare pissed at me."

Dream considered arguing. He decided it wasn't worth it; one of the few things he did know about Cross was that he was stubborn and rarely backed down once he'd made up his mind. 

He had to admit Cross was right. It was a lot faster when they didn't have to stop every few minutes for Dream to rest. Once he was settled back into his room Dream wrapped himself up in a blanket so that only his eyes were showing and glared at Cross...if it could even be called a glare. It was really more of a pout.

Dream wasn't mad that Cross had carried him, he was made that Cross hadn't asked. Or at least warned him! Dream was used to being accosted by surprise hugs (from Blue) or surprise attacks (from Ink), but he wasn't used to being picked up. Well, unless you counted being grabbed and thrown by Nightmare's tentacles. Which Dream wasn't counting.

Dream heard footsteps approaching, and so did Cross judging by the way he straightened up and watched the door expectantly. 

Nightmare walked in, looking tired and a little irritated. Dream emerged from his blanket cocoon, indignity forgotten. "Where were you?" he asked.

"Talking," Nightmare said. "Your friends are worried about you." Before Dream could ask for some more information Nightmare paused and stared at Dream curiously. "Those are different clothes," he said.

"He wanted a bath," Cross explained. "The clothes are Dust's, since his room is easiest to break in to."

"You didn't just ask?" Nightmare asked with a sigh, although he seemed more amused than annoyed. "Well, it doesn't matter. Where are his other clothes?"

"Still in the bathroom," Cross said. He glanced at Dream for confirmation, which was given with a nod.

"Go get them. Make sure they're properly cleaned," Nightmare instructed. Cross nodded and left to do as he was told.

"You don't have to wash my clothes," Dream protested. 

"I don't have to take care of you at all," Nightmare said. "And yet, here we are. Besides, I'm not the one washing them, am I?" 

Dream rolled his eyes. "You always did like to argue the details," he said. "I shouldn't be surprised that hasn't changed." 

"And you always hated accepting help," Nightmare said. Was it just Dream's imagination or did he seem a little sad as he said it? "I'm honestly surprised you've been so compliant," Nightmare mused. 

"It's not like I have a choice," Dream muttered. "I don't have the energy to open a portal to leave. I'm effectively trapped here."

Dream didn't know what to make of the look Nightmare gave him. It was oddly sad, almost pitying. Almost...regretful.

Dream blinked and it was gone. It must have been his imagination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt so bad about not being able to update yesterday, but I had absolutely no time to sit down and write in peace. None. At. All. It sucked.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What exactly happened when Nightmare went off with Error?

Nightmare sighed as he made his way downstairs. It wasn't enough for Dream to be sick, now he had a pissed-off destroyer to deal with as well.

Error was waiting impatiently by the couch. **"Took you long enough,"** he snapped.

Nightmare knew Error was trying to bait him. When he got upset he usually tried to make everyone around him upset as well. Misery loves company after all, a fact Nightmare knew well.

He didn't rise to the taunt. "Error," he said smoothly. "What brings you here?" 

**"Fucking Ink, that's what,"** Error hissed. **"He won't leave me alone! He even followed me to the anti-void and he hates the place!"**

Nightmare grimaced. Although Ink generally tried to be nice, he could be a damn nuisance if he wanted to. It didn't help that Error was easily upset. 

"You can tell him Dream is here," Nightmare said. 

Error was so startled that he forgot to be upset for a few seconds. **"He's _here_?"** Error asked incredulously. **"What the actual fuck, Nightmare?"**

"Yes, he's here. He's sick. Tell Ink that Dream is perfectly safe and will be returned once I'm satisfied he's fully recovered."

Error threw his hands in the air, frustration and confusion rolling off him in waves. **"He's not even a prisoner?!"** he screeched. **"You're just helping him?! Why, out of the goodness of your soul?!"**

Nightmare's patience was wearing thin. "I don't need to explain myself any further," he snapped. "I've told you what's going on. Pass it on to Ink or don't, I don't care.

 **"Oh, no,"** Error said. **"I want you to come with me. You know the squid; he'll have more questions. I want you there to either answer them or help me chase him off for good!"**

Nightmare glanced upstairs. He didn't want to leave Dream for long, but...he trusted Cross, and Error was _very_ upset. And he had a point with the questions. "Fine," Nightmare said. "It has to be quick though." 

Error waved his hand dismissively and opened up a portal right there in the living room. He waited for Nightmare to step through first, as though he didn't trust him not to run off. Nightmare rolled his eyes but walked through.

The moment Nightmare entered the anti-void Ink was right there. His eyelights were changing unusually quickly, and Nightmare spotted shapes such as crosshairs and skulls just often enough that he was a little nervous. 

"Hey, Nightmare, long time no see!" Ink exclaimed. He sounded happy enough, but Ink was an excellent actor. His eyes were the only thing betraying his true emotions. "I was just asking Glitchy here if he knows where Dream is. You wouldn't happen to know anything, wouldja?" 

Nightmare grinned lazily down at the artist. "Dream's with me. Don't worry, he's not in any danger and you'll get him back soon enough."

Ink narrowed his eyes. "What's he doing with you?" he asked accusingly. One hand twitched towards the brush strapped to his back.

"Throwing up, mostly," Nightmare said casually. "And sleeping. Lots of sleeping."

Ink frowned, anger instantly turning to worry. "He's sick? He didn't say anything to me! How's he doing? Did he agree to hang out with you or did you kidnap him or something? Did he-"

 **"Would you shut the hell up for one fucking minute?!"** Error growled suddenly. **"I've already got a headache thanks to you, you don't need to make it any worse!"**

"Oh, sorry!" Ink chirped. From the grin on his face Nightmare didn't think he was very sorry at all. "I didn't mean to give you a headache, Error. I didn't realize you were tired of me talking so much! I'm really sorry, and I'll shut up now. For real. You won't hear one more word from me. Not. A. Peep. In fact, I'll be so quiet that-"

The whole time he was talking Ink got gradually louder and louder, and edged closer and closer to Error. Finally Error's barely controlled anger became too much and he screamed in frustration, lashing out at Ink as error signs covered his eyes. Ink easily dodged the blow, snickering.

"Haha, oh man! You are way too easy, you know that? I barely even have to do anything- oh, he crashed."

Nightmare quickly moved between Ink and the now-defenseless glitch. "You know what's going on. Now be patient and play nice," Nightmare said calmly. "Leave Error alone for a while, he's had enough of your crap."

"Aw, you're no fun," Ink pouted. " You didn't answer my question though! Did you kidnap Dream or did he agree to go?"

"I kidnapped him," Nightmare said. "And I'll kidnap you too if you don't leave Error alone until Dream comes back."

"Oh please," Ink snorted. "You'd never catch me. But fine, I need to go talk to Blue anyway."

With that Ink melted into a black puddle of, well, ink, and vanished. 

Nightmare waited for Error to reboot. It took a little while. It was one of the things Nightmare had noticed about him: the more upset he was when he crashed the longer it took for him to wake up.

Error shuddered as he came to and stared at his surroundings, looking a little dazed. **"Did he finally back off?"** he asked after a moment. Nightmare nodded. 

"He's gone. For the moment. If he comes back, you know you're welcome to come to my castle for a while. He can't get in there unless I let him." 

**"I know,"** Error grumbled. **"I don't know who's louder, Ink, or your idiots."**

"Oh, it's definitely my idiots," Nightmare chuckled. "But at least they're nice about it. I'm going to head back, you know where to find me if you need me."

Error nodded and opened up another portal, leaping through. Nightmare doubted he planned on destroying a universe- that would mean seeing Ink, and Error clearly wasn't ready to deal with him again so soon.

Nightmare let out a sigh as he fell into a puddle of goop. He would be glad when all this was over.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream is almost completely recovered and he's starting to get a little restless. Nightmare does some thinking.

"Check," Nightmare said in a bored tone of voice. 

"No! How are you so good at this?!" Dream fumed, staring at the chessboard. His only option was to sacrifice his last rook to save the king, which would leave him with only a handful of pieces, most of them pawns. "You're toying with me," he accused. 

"Of course I am," Nightmare said calmly. "It's sweet how you refuse to give up even when you realize have no chance of winning. Your pain amuses me."

"Sadist,' Dream muttered, giving in and moving his rook.

Nightmare took the piece with a triumphant smirk. "I may be a sadist, but you're still playing with me. What does that make you?" he asked. 

Dream scowled and had his king retreat a space. "It makes me bored," he answered. "And also frustrated because I can't beat you!" 

"You can't even come close," Nightmare scoffed, but when he saw the genuinely upset expression Dream wore he sighed and took pity on him. "It's been years since you last played," Nightmare pointed out. "I play with Killer at least one night every week...and it's not like he can beat me, either, although he certainly tries."

As he spoke, Nightmare decided that the game had dragged on long enough. "Checkmate," he announced as he moved a piece. 

Dream insisted on exploring every possible move to make sure there was no possible way for his king to escape the trap, which of course there wasn't. Nightmare knew what he was doing. As it was the sixth game in a row Nightmare had won, with no indication that his winning streak would end anytime soon, Dream decided he was done playing.

"When can I leave, anyways?" Dream asked. "I feel fine. I've felt fine all day."

"Not yet," Nightmare said. "You only woke up about two hours ago, I wouldn't call that _all day_. Give it a little more time." 

"But I'm bored," Dream groaned, flopping back onto the bed. Nightmare rolled his eyes.

"You're acting like a petulant child," he remarked. "I'm surprised at you, brother. I would expect better from the guardian of positivity." 

"The guardian of positivity has been stuck here for like a week-"

"Four days."

'-a week, and he is bored." 

"Well what do you usually do when you aren't working?" Nightmare asked. "Surely you've discovered some way to pass the time in the centuries you've been alive.

Dream shrugged. "I'm always working," he said matter-of-factly. "If I'm not doing my job I'm helping Ink, and if I'm not helping Ink I'm sleeping. I have many problems, but boredom is not one of them."

Nightmare tilted his head slightly as he thought about that. Even before the incident, he remembered, Dream was always working. He was always moving, always trying to help someone, somewhere. He couldn't bear standing around idle if he could be making someone's life a little better instead. That was just who he was.

The only times he actually stopped and took a break were when Nightmare made him, usually with the promise of a cup of tea and an hour or so spent reading beneath the tree until Dream inevitably fell asleep on Nightmare's shoulder. Those peaceful hours beneath the tree were some of Nightmare's best memories, although he rarely allowed himself to think of them.

If Nightmare was no longer the one making sure that Dream slept, that he remembered to eat and didn't run himself ragged trying to help everyone he possibly could, then Nightmare had to wonder...who had taken his place? 

"Nightmare?" Dream was saying. From the sound of it, this was the second or third time he'd said his name. 

"My apologies," Nightmare said quickly, squelching down his thoughts. That wasn't helpful right now. Quite the opposite, in fact. "I became lost in thought, that's all. What did you need?" he asked. 

"I was asking if you had a book I can read," Dream said. "I would much rather get back to my work, but since you won't let me leave yet and I don't know when I'll next have the time to sit down and do nothing important for a while...I may as well read something." 

"Of course, I'll go get a few for you to choose from," Nightmare said, standing up. He stopped in the doorway and glanced back over his shoulder at Dream. "Do you still like fantasy, or would you prefer something else?" he asked.

"Fantasy is fine," Dream said from his perch on the edge of the bed. Nightmare nodded and left.

He went to his own room, where he had several floor-to-ceiling bookcases- and his ceiling was very high- with each shelf bending ever so slightly beneath the weight of his collection. He had a decent selection of fantasy scattered among everything else and he picked a few he thought Dream would like. Dream's favorite stories had always been the fairytales, Nightmare remembered fondly. He liked the more obscure ones that most people hadn't heard of, so then later he could tell the village children a story they had never heard before.

Nightmare realized he was getting lost in thought again and hurried back to Dream, handing him the stack of three or four books to choose from. It wasn't like him to be so easily distracted. Fortunately Dream didn't seem to notice Nightmare's odd mood and quietly selected a book, saying nothing more than an absent "thank you."

Nightmare didn't return to his chair. Instead he stood by the open door and watched Dream, an unfamiliar sense of turmoil writhing within him.

For a long time, Nightmare had been satisfied with the way things were.

He and his gang were outcasts, rejected and feared by every world that knew of them, and the ones that didn't learned to fear them quickly enough. That was how he liked it. The more scared everyone was of him, the more they hated him, the stronger he became. He liked being strong. Sometimes, after a particularly violent attack, there were days that Nightmare felt like he could conquer the entire Multiverse with a snap of his fingers. 

He never tried to do that, though. The power he wanted came from magic alone, not ruling a kingdom. There were too many rules and responsibilities that came with being in charge of so many people. No, thank you. Three violent, criminally insane skeletons- Cross was an outlier, the one semi-sane person in his little group- along with Error as well some days, was plenty of responsibility for him.

Even the fights with Dream and Ink and sometimes Blue were just another part of his daily life. Truth be told, he rather enjoyed them. The native inhabitants of the worlds, although some were strong, were nothing compared to most of the outcodes. The "Star Sanses," as many called them, were among the few beings that could pose a challenge to Nightmare and his gang.

It had been like this for centuries. He would attack an AU with the help of his boys, and sometimes they won and sometimes they lost. If they won they would celebrate, and even if they lost they usually celebrated anyways. Dream opposed them, naturally, and as for Ink...honestly? As long as the worlds remained intact, he didn't really care what people did in them. If it weren't for Dream being one of his few friends, Nightmare sincerely doubted Ink would raise a finger to stop them. As it was, he was just another opponent in the game.

The path he'd chosen had it's up and downs, yes, but Nightmare wouldn't change a thing even if he could. He'd long held that opinion.

But now...these past few days had awakened a desire long forgotten within Nightmare's soul. For a short, precious moment of their very long lives, he and Dream were brothers again. Bringing him here had been an impulse decision that he'd expected to regret, but even with everything they'd done to each other over the years...it had been surprisingly easy to get along while Dream recovered. No name calling, no threats, the handful of disagreements they'd had were all small and barely worth being considered an actual argument.

It all made Nightmare wonder if it was possible to repair the damage that had been done. 

It was a dangerous path for him to wander down. If it was just Nightmare alone, then...maybe. But he had his boys to take care of. He had to be strong to protect them as well as himself. In the years they had been together, his gang had become rather infamous among those worlds that knew of the Multiverse, and they had earned quite a few enemies that would love to take a crack at them if they thought they had half a chance.

No, better to leave things as they were. He would release Dream and they would go back to fighting for the fate of the worlds every other day. He could probably let him go right now, actually, and put a stop to this nonsense he was thinking.

And yet, when he tried to say that Dream could go, he faltered. His brother looked so peaceful. For once he was completely relaxed, lost within a world of words.

He would let him go, he would. Just...not quite yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...it's been what, two weeks since chapter 9? 
> 
> ...
> 
> ...I don't really have anything to say for myself. Sorry, guys! I'm really gonna try and get the next chapter done much quicker.
> 
> Speaking of which, I think the next chapter is going to be the final one! I'm really excited because I've never finished a multi chapter story before and I'm sooooo close


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream is finally better and it's time for him to leave

Dream had completely recovered, and anyone who tried to say otherwise was getting an arrow in the eye socket.

He paced in a restless circle within the room he'd spent the past few days in. Nightmare had gone to track down his belongings. He'd told Dream in no uncertain terms to wait here. As much as Dream wanted to get out of the room, he also wanted to stay on Nightmare's good side, so he listened. 

He looked up at a tentative knock on the door. Who was that? Nightmare wouldn't knock, so it had to be on of his minions...but who, and why? "Hello?" he called out cautiously. 

Cross pushed the door open and peered inside. Upon seeing that the only person there was Dream, he walked inside. "Nightmare mentioned you were leaving today…?" he said uncertainly.

"Yes, I need to get back to work," Dream said. "Why? Do you need something…?" He couldn't think of anything Cross would need or want from him, but he couldn't imagine any other reason for Cross to show up like this.

To Dream's surprise, he suddenly sensed nervousness from Cross. 

"No, I just...thought I'd come see you off," he said awkwardly, looking anywhere except at Dream. "Y'know, make sure you actually are healthy. If Nightmare has to drag you back here in a week because you've relapsed, I think Dust will start a mutiny."

Dream chuckled, and the sound seemed to set Cross a little more at ease. "Don't worry, I don't plan on getting sick again," he assured the other skeleton. 

"Well...good," Cross said, and was that a hint of a smile? As quickly as it had come it was gone again, and Dream was left wondering if it was just a trick of the light, 

Neither of them knew what else to say, and so they stood there staring at each other until they heard footsteps in the hallway. It wasn't Nightmare, he would never run that fast. 

"Cross!" Dust yelped, appearing in the doorway with a knife in his hand. "You gotta come help us-hi, Dream- Horror is raiding the fridge!"

The transformation that swept over Cross was immediate. Any hint of a smile that might have been there vanished, his mouth forming a thin, hard line. His eyes flashed red as he straightened up and his massive knife appeared in his hands.

The calm, even relaxed, skeleton from a moment ago was gone, replaced by one who was all hard edges and sharp angles. Ready to fight, to maim, to kill if necessary.

"He better not touch my fucking cake!" Cross yelled as he darted out the door. Dust followed, and Dream could hear his gleeful laughter echo through the hallway as they hurtled towards the kitchen. 

He sat down on the edge of the bed, not sure whether to be amused or worried. The amount of yelling and crashing coming from downstairs was alarming, to say the least. 

Dream tentatively extended his senses, trying to get a feel for their emotions. It was hard, since he was still weak from being sick, and because this whole place was steeped in Nightmare's power, but he managed it.

He felt anger, and frustration. He didn't feel any fear, which meant the fight wasn't serious...or, more likely, that they were all too insane to worry about getting hurt. But stronger all the other emotions he felt was amusement. Excitement. They were enjoying this spat, despite all the angry yelling and threats he could barely make out. 

"Are you finished spying on my boys?" Nightmare asked dryly.

Dream yelped and shot to his feet. He'd been so focused on what he was doing that he hadn't noticed his brother come in. "I wasn't spying!' he protested weakly. "...okay, I kinda was. But I was worried they were going to hurt each other!"

"Hm, you never cared about who hurt them before," Nightmare remarked. He tossed a stack of clothes at Dream, who barely caught them. "Well, anyways, I found your things, obviously. Get dressed so we can go." 

He turned and left, closing the door behind him. Dream sighed and stood up. He unfolded his cape from the top of the pile and inspected it.

It was clean, which was nice. But more than that, someone had mended it. Dream very clearly remembered ripping it along the bottom edge, and now that rip was gone, sewn up with tiny, even stitches. And so was every other tear, he realized as he looked at the rest of his clothes. Whoever had done it was very talented. Definitely better than Dream, who didn't have much time to repair his clothes anyways. 

He wondered who had done it. He couldn't imagine any of the aggressive, violent skeletons living here had a talent for sewing, but it had to have been one of them. But who, and why would they put so much effort in for him…?

Now was not the time to think about it, though. Nightmare was waiting on him.  
Dream quickly got dressed, leaving the borrowed clothes in a neat pile on the bed. He was starting to feel like his old self again, with his crown resting snugly on his skull and cape trailing behind him.

Nightmare was waiting for him in the hallway. "Come," he said simply, holding out a hand to Dream.

The moment Dream touched Nightmare his stomach twisted and he couldn't breathe. Darkness enveloped him, thick and oily and black, choking him and dragging him down. 

Then it was over, and Dream staggered away from Nightmare trying not to throw up. 

"What was that?" he rasped, glancing back at his brother. Nightmare, to his credit, seemed just as surprised as Dream was.

"It's simply how I travel…" Nightmare said slowly. "..perhaps, since my magic is made of negativity, it affected you much more strongly than it does others. I apologize. That was not my intent."

"I know," Dream said. And he did. Nightmare really hadn't meant to make him feel like he was going to throw up. It was just an unfortunate side effect.

Dream had been so busy trying to not throw up that he hadn't noticed his surroundings, but now he realized that they were no longer in Nightmare's castle. They were standing in a cave in a Waterfall somewhere. 

It was nice. The ceiling sparkled with light and he could hear water rushing nearby. The whole place had a soft, blue ambience. No one was there save for the two skeletons. It was very peaceful.

"Well, I'm sure you can find your own way from here," Nightmare was saying. "I need to return and make sure they don't tear the castle into bits. Until next time."

Dream opened his mouth to say goodbye, but the words wouldn't come. He wasn't ready to say goodbye to Nightmare yet. To his brother. The brother who sat with him when he was sick and read books to him, who was so surprisingly gentle and patient when he wanted to be.

He wasn't ready to forget all that. He wasn't ready to fight again.

His feet moved of their own accord, rushing towards Nightmare. The other startled and began to prepare an attack, but before he could Dream had flung his arms around him.

For once, Nightmare had nothing to say, taken completely by surprise. After a moment he returned the hug, not only with his arms but also with his tentacles, curling around the two protectively.

"...what are you doing?" Nightmare murmured after a minute.

"...what does it look like I'm doing?" Dream asked quietly. "I'm hugging you, doofus." 

"...you're not as bad as you want everyone to think," he added after another minute of silence. Nightmare chuckled.

"Don't tell anyone, I have a reputation to uphold," he said, smiling slightly. 

They stood like that for a little longer, neither wanting the moment to end. Finally, Nightmare gently pushed Dream away.

"Goodbye, brother," he said softly.

Then he was gone.

Something warm rolled down Dream's cheek and he smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it! Fever Dreams is completed. I'd like to do a sequel at some point, or at least some oneshots set in the same universe- I mean, Multiverse. 
> 
> If you haven't seen it yet, I started a oneshot collection that updates whenever I have something to add to it. I take requests as well, so if you're interested in that go check it out! ~~please~~
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
